Divided We Fall
by DarkHeart89
Summary: One of the hardest parts about the war was the wedge it drove between them. She knew they'd always insisted that nothing could ever tear them apart, but sometimes she wondered. She knew he did, too. / Civil War AU, Clintasha-centric, sequel to "A Little Piece of Heaven" but also a standalone.


Divided We Fall

Summary: One of the hardest parts about the war was the wedge it drove between them. She knew they'd always insisted that nothing could ever tear them apart, but sometimes she wondered. She knew he did, too.

Rating: T

Pairing: Clintasha [Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff]

AN: SO, considering I lost patience for my AOU one [at least for now], I thought I would start an interconnected sequel for an AU Civil War one! I got really hyped about this quite a while ago, but it wasn't till as of recently [a few weeks ago] that I really got working on it. Today, especially, one I got my Natasha muse back, I knew I had to finish the second segment. This chapter is in two segments, as you'll be able to tell. Well, the second one I struggled with for ideas for a long time! But now, finally, I was able to figure it out.

Apologies if my portrayal of Sam is silly or maybe OOC; I haven't seen the entirety of TWS [no matter how many times I try] and really my only experience with him is what I saw in Civil War. I tried to stay true to that, but if it's rough, I'm sorry! The first segment is definitely better than the second.

Anyway, I hope you like this! I have ten-eleven chapters planned out, all Clintasha-centric. Hopefully this will sate the hearts of all of the Clintasha fans who wish they would have been together as I do. :D

Thanks!

[OoOoOoO]

One of his biggest downfalls was being the heavy sleeper he was. Natasha, most mornings, functioned as his alarm clock when it wasn't his general circadian rhythm waking him. But here on their little piece of heaven, it wasn't frequent that that rhythm changed - until the rare occasions he awoke to an empty bed. Then it became evident that she was up doing something. Their semi-retirement time on the farm had been kind to them and amusingly enough, Natasha had become quite the sleeper. Her waking up sooner than necessary had become rare and far between.

However, he knew it had to be one of those things she was going to break to him gently. Why? She was trying to lure him by making coffee. It was a predictable tactic of hers and the scent of the brew had long wafted into his nostrils. Frankly, it had been the thing that had woken him to begin with.

Oh, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

He sat up, running his fingers through mussed hair and fumbling around for a shirt, nearly stepping on the golden retriever laid on the floor next to him. "Jesus, Luck, bud, you have to sleep in your /actual/ bed." He insisted to the half-awake mess of fur, reaching down to pet his head. "Liho sleeps in hers." He nodded over towards the black cat cozied into her own bed.

The dog answered with a whine and a sorrowful look. Clint could only sigh at him; damn dog knew he was his weakness. He crouched and gave his head one last generous pat before meandering out of their room and down the hall to the kitchen, following the scented trail of coffee.

He halted in resignation when he saw her fully dressed, makeup done and hair swept and combed in her newly acquired layers. His shoulders sagged a little when she looked up, that certain /mission/ look in her eyes. Couldn't they just be left in retirement?

"Alright, where're you going?" He asked while sighing, padding over to snag the mug of coffee she'd strategically left on the counter for him. Her answer was a vaguely sheepish smile, lips parting to inform him when he stopped her: "Wait. Tell me after I've had some coffee. It'll ease the sting." He joked [only partially], tipping the mug back and letting the caffeine begin to filter through him.

This was always the problem: retirement didn't come easy to them. It was one of the reasons why he'd nicknamed it semi-retirement, or selective retirement. As nice as it was to lie low after shit had hit the fan time and time again, they were natural born action players. Playing the standby routine just didn't sate them all of the time and he knew that; Natasha just happened to be the more restless one between the two of them.

She waited, hands spread along the counter. She would have appreciated some forewarning before she was called in [well, one of them had been], but Steve had left her a text this morning about needing another set of hands on a trip to Lagos. Rumlow was alive and taking up the persona of "Crossbones" now. Wherever his allegiance lied now, it was hinted that his appearance in Lagos may have something to do with the alleged holding of extremely dangerous biological weapons in an acclaimed lab.

It was a good test mission for Wanda, Steve had insisted, and he felt he could use another assassin of some type to help shape her craft. She'd showed some resistance in learning the types of things that people like Natasha, Clint, and Steve knew, rationalizing that it had no point for her - not when she was capable of what she was capable of.

Natasha knew she was going to have to get involved to change that, as she'd been trying to over weeks of occasional visitation. She knew it had been mostly the efforts of her, Clint, and Steve that had been fueling her transition.

But even so, she wouldn't mind getting another chance to swing at Rumlow; years of accumulated frustration towards him paired with the fact he ended up being one of the HYDRA traitors in the end fueled that desire. She knew Clint would be in the same boat.

However, she also knew Clint was stalling and the look she gave him brought the mostly empty cup of coffee away from his lips. "Cap rang this morning; Lagos, Rumlow, and a possible theft attempt for dangerous bio weapons." She could see the bitterness curdling his facial expression. "That, and a good learning experience for Wanda. Steve needed a second on that situation." And his softness returned. She knew how he saw Wanda and she knew how she saw Wanda, so if Rumlow hadn't convinced him, she knew the bit about her would. "I volunteered."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't ask me?"

"I was getting a little restless." She admitted. "That, and he only needed one extra set of hands, or so he said." Her nails skirted along the counter edge. "Do you want to come?" He could suit up quickly enough; neither of them had seen any action in a month or so, aside from the bi-weekly trips to the compound to help Wanda in various hand-to-hand exercises and various training simulations. There was also the occasional team dinner.

He rolled the idea around in his mind for a bit, before shaking his head. "Nah. I was going to work on some fencing along the one side. Pretty sure some rabbits are slipping in and getting into the vegetable garden."

Her eyes flared in frustration; /her/ vegetable garden. "Naturally." But she rounded the counter to stand in front of him, leaning a hip against the counter. "You don't mind me taking this, right?"

"Hey, we switch off." He dismissed with a shake of his head. "I get restless, too." He tossed in a shrug.

"I took the last two. Technically, this would be your run-around if you wanted it to be." She hated to say it, but there was a minute amount of guilt gnawing at the back of her mind. After the fall of SHIELD and defeating Ultron, she'd been so - shaken - that the leverage of having this house and staying here would have been good for her. She needed the grounding. But she was anything if not resilient, so she'd eventually lost the patience for settled life. Now she dueled it.

Clint set aside his mug, amused by her projecting and gently grasped her upper arms. "Nat, it's fine. Seriously. I have work to do today; I'll survive." Unlike her, his restless pattern was further stretched. He didn't need the frequented missions to make him content. But it was fine, because she wasn't him. He was anything if not understanding; hell, she was younger than him and had always been more consumed in this line of work than he was. "It'll just be for the day, right? Or are you going to be back tomorrow?"

She slowly eased her shoulders down from the rigid position, relaxing under his touch. "It depends on how it rolls over. Best case-scenario is we can detain Rumlow and his goons, and prevent any attack on whatever he's there for." Assuming the bio-weapons. "That'll only take the day at most." The Quinjet was more than capable of getting them there in good time.

"Then good. You'll be home for breakfast in the morning." He grinned lightly. "Dinner seems a bit ambitious to me."

"Very ambitious." She murmured, staring up at him even still, searching his eyes for any hidden feelings about this.

Clint just had this habit of pinpointing the reason for her 'ambiguous' stares. "Natasha."

She raised her hands, symbolizing her dropping it. "Fine, fine. I was just making sure."

He laughed lightly and stroked his thumbs over her arms, the gesture not quite as sweet with the thick material of her jacket. "I know. Just be safe, alright?" His eyes flitted towards the charm around her neck and he raised a hand, gently thumbing it and lifting it from her skin. "I was hoping you'd wear this."

There was a wan tinge in the smile she gave him. "You know I do when I take missions that we aren't both taking."

"I know, I know." He insisted, raising his eyes to look at her. "It's just always nice when you do. Helps a guy's ego." He joked, earning a roll of her eyes, before she wound her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He pressed his nose into the side of her head, abandoning the necklace to reciprocate the warmth of the embrace. He kissed her hair briefly, inhaling.

These missions were seldom dangerous these days; Natasha was more than capable of handling herself in /any/ scenario, even when anyone else would be out of their mind to handle it, but even still - he worried. Always would. He was fairly sure it was a mutual feeling [one of the reasons Natasha didn't complain about his inactive duty], just more felt by him. But it was never verbalized. She could handle herself. Besides, she knew. Unspoken words were always safer.

He squeezed her once more before leaning back, though not removing his embrace until he had to.

"Just do me a favor and beat the shit out of Rumlow for me."

[OoOoOoO]

By the time she'd regrouped with the others, they were off in the Quinjet on their way to Lagos. As usual, she was co-piloting, except this once it was with Sam in the driver's seat and not Clint. She'd grown to trust him after their various shared experiences since he'd been inducted into the team, so she had faith he could fly the jet easily and did. He had experience; it was impressive.

However, since he had experience, there were a lot of things she didn't need to control and was able to sit back, milk the ride while she could. Faintly, she could hear Steve speaking to Wanda behind them - hushed, but firm in a way that led her to believe that he was giving her instructions, running through different things he'd taught her before. She would have joined in, but that may have been overwhelming to her.

Recap on the guidelines of flawless espionage were better told as they should be served: quietly and discreetly.

She turned her attention back to the controls, stretching out her legs when Sam spoke.

"So. . . " The sentence starter had her attention. "How's retired life treating you and Barton?"

Her lips quirked at his mention, but very subtly, folding her arms over her stomach. "Well enough."

"How's the farm?" Apparently, her short answers weren't doing anything to deter him. Oh well.

"Up and running, aside from the fact some rabbits are getting into my vegetable garden and eating everything." It was impossible to not include that; she was still bitter about it.

Sam actually laughed, looking at her oddly for a minute. She shook her head. "It's fine. Clint's patching up a hole in the fence while I'm gone, so hopefully my lettuce and cilantro is salvageable."

Sometimes it did startle him to see the world's greatest assassin speak so domestically. Never in a million years when he'd met her had she came across as the type of person to want to live in a remote farm location, tend to a garden, have -pets-. Learning of her marriage to Barton wasn't exactly a big surprise. On the outside, he would have assumed they were mismatched, with the age difference and the difference in their personalities, but once he'd gotten to know Barton as well, he understood quickly that they were two halves to a whole.

It was unique to observe, actually. They subconsciously affected each other and were just about everything. He also saw her arrow pendant frequently, something she was wearing now. She seems to always where it when he wasn't with her, he noticed. It was cute, in an assassin friendship bracelet kind of way.

"Speaking of Barton, why isn't he here? Haven't seen him on the last few, actually."

She rolled her eyes and leant her head back against the rest, adjusting her headset. "You needed subtle; Clint isn't always subtle."

"A sniper's good, too."

"Do you want me to call him, Sam?"

"No, ma'am." But he was grinning as he said it, successful in his little prodding. Hey, when you're friends with the Black Widow, it's fun to mess with her sometimes.

She glanced at him then, just watching him operate things. He was a very controlled man, with a goofy sense of humor. Sometimes sardonic, sometimes stupid. He was like Clint in a lot of ways; she understood why they got along. Well, that and they were the only two that shared bird aliases. They bonded over that -far- too much.

"How's life treating you? I told you about the state of my vegetable garden. It's only fair to give something in return." She prodded playfully, curious.

He shrugged, pressing his lips together. "Getting inducted into the hero game is a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting at home, so yeah, pretty damn good. There's a lot of comradery here, you know? Reminds me a lot of Air Force." He still helped soldiers, still had his days, but being here helped. It filled him with a lot of new, good memories - kept him out of his bubble of occasional self-loathing here and there.

His glanced to her, a small smile playing on his lips. "You guys are close. It's just been good to be apart of it all."

She smiled in return, a rare reciprocation that lasted a few seconds at the most. "So you like it, then?"

"I do."

"Me, too."

[OoOoOoO]

AN: Hope you enjoyed! More will be coming soon, hopefully, if I can stick to my outline.

Reviews are my life; don't kill me!


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